


Fuck, Marry, Kill

by MaskoftheRay



Series: The Things That I Do For You [5]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Bruce Wayne is a little petty, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Humor, I make Bruce (well Brucie) play 'Fuck Marry Kill', Kidnapping, M/M, No Beta— we die like womne, Secret Identity Fail, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-23
Updated: 2020-04-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:08:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23798212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaskoftheRay/pseuds/MaskoftheRay
Summary: Bruce gets kidnapped. Brucie plays Fuck, Marry, Kill.
Relationships: Clark Kent & Bruce Wayne, Diana (Wonder Woman) & Clark Kent & Bruce Wayne, Pre Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne
Series: The Things That I Do For You [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1693975
Comments: 18
Kudos: 465





	Fuck, Marry, Kill

**Author's Note:**

> **“Opportunity cost** , In economic terms, the opportunities forgone in the choice of one expenditure over others.”  
> — “Opportunity cost,” _Encyclopædia Britannica_

“At times like these, one almost wishes that they were from Metropolis,” Bruce drawls.

The thug behind him snorts. Irritatingly, he can feel the man’s hot, sour breath ruffle his hair. “I’m sure you do, Mr. Wayne,” Thug Two replies. Thug One grunts— evidently in agreement. They’ve been waiting here, in parts unknown, for nearly an hour. Batman (or _anyone else_ , for that matter) has yet to show up. But something which the thugs don’t know, and Bruce _does_ , is that Batman won’t be showing up tonight.

Because, technically speaking, he’s already here.

Bruce knows that if he were a regular hostage, he’d be dead by now. No use in keeping ‘live bait’ around if the fish aren’t biting, so to speak. Luckily, both thugs seem to agree that the wait will be worthwhile. When the ransom money is, at last, passed along. Evidently, it’s become a bit of a common scam for Gotham-area banks to receive callers claiming to have kidnapped Bruce Wayne (some even hire voice actors, and, apparently, one or two have been good enough to get away with it). So Bruce’s bank, like the others, has decided to up its security procedures. Hence the wait. But still. The payout will be worth it.

 _If_ Batman doesn’t bust them first, which he won’t. At least not tonight.

“Thought Bats actually cared about all you rich fucks— how’s it feel to be forgotten, Wayne?” Thug Two asks, chortling.

“Irritating,” Bruce replies dryly. “I’ll have to have a word with him when he finally arrives.”

Thug One snickers at his mock-annoyance. At first, both men had been quite antsy, and waved their weapons around in a way which didn’t seem like good news to Bruce. But, as time has passed and _nothing has happened_ , the men have calmed down. Brucie’s good-natured, if slightly-idiotic, commentary has helped. Somewhat.

“You know, gentlemen,” he says calmly, “I _am_ terribly bored. Are you sure that I can’t just write you a check and get this over with?”

Thug Two growls. “No, Wayne! We told you before— money wire only.” Bruce sighs, pretending to be put off. But really, his mind is whirring. He’s not sure why no one’s arrived yet, but panicking won’t fix anything. Neither will annoyance (though his fingers are starting to get irritatingly numb). So the best thing Bruce can do is to keep his kidnappers calm until he either escapes or someone else finally fucking shows up.

“Well, in that case, would you gentlemen be interested in a little game?” 

“Hm. Couldn’t hurt? What’cha got in mind?” Thug One asks.

Bruce smirks devilishly. “Fuck, Marry, Kill.” Thug One blinks. Thug Two snorts derisively. “What,” he continues, “not interesting enough for you?”

“More like we don’t need to hear any more about you sleeping around,” Thug Two sneers.

He shrugs as best he can. “Fair enough. How about if we shake it up a little, then: Fuck, Marry, Kill with the Trinity.”

“What? You mean the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost?” Thug One asks, sounding vaguely horrified.

“No, you idiot! He means Batman, Superman, and Wonder Woman,” Thug Two exclaims. He pauses. “Unless you _actually_ do mean that Trinity...”

“I meant Superman, Batman, and Wonder Woman,” Bruce clarifies dryly.

“Okay. I’m game if you are,” Thug One says.

“I don’t care either way— Wayne, you start.” Bruce swallows. _Well, I seem to not have thought this through_. “Wayne,” Thug Two says threateningly. _Although— Clark’s certainly taking long enough that he **deserves** to hear this._ Bruce sighs.

Both men move to stand in front of his chair.

“Hmm. Let me see…” he pauses for dramatic effect. “Kill Batman. Yep, definitely kill Batman—”

“Really? You’d _kill_ the big bad Bat?” Thug One asks doubtfully. “What if he hears ya?”

Bruce snorts. “At this point, frankly, I don’t care.”

“Alright then,” Thug Two says, sounding mollified. _Good_.

“So: kill Batman, and— excusez mon français— fuck Wonder Woman.”

“ _Fuck_ Wonder Woman? Why not marry her?” Thug Two asks this time.

Bruce rolls his eyes. “The heteronormativity is strong here, apparently. Fine, I’ll explain— or would you rather hear why I’d marry Superman first?”

The thugs exchange a look, and shrug. “Go ahead,” One says. Two just nods.

Bruce smiles. “Well, he’s _gorgeous_ , for one— not that I’m exactly lacking— and so strong. Brave and kind too. I’d never have to worry about killing spiders again, and, you know, gentlemen, a big old house like mine is chalk-full of them. With a big heart like his, I’m sure that Kryptonian would bring me flowers, and chocolates—”

“What about the lay? You haven’t talked about sex yet, Wayne,” Thug Two interrupts, seeming… _disturbingly_ enthusiastic about it. Bruce shudders internally.

“Well, one doesn’t always marry for the love-making, if you know what I mean. I’m sure he’d be… fine, but what I’m more interested in is stable— I’ve _had_ enough good fucks.”

Thug One nods, as if what Bruce has just said is sage advice, and not total bullshit. _Christ_. Thug Two squints at him, and shrugs. “Fair enough.”

Bruce nods. “Right then. So, this leads me back to why I’d fuck Wonder Woman: I’m sure she’s adventurous, and she’s got that lasso of hers. A rich guy like me, hard to find a partner who’s equally as powerful, or, in her case, _more_. If I’m going to have a one night stand scenario, I want _memorable_ , you understand?”

Both thugs nod.

“Seems solid to me,” One says.

“Sure, I guess,” Two says. “But personally, Batman is the one, I’d f—”

“Hello, gentlemen. Mr. Wayne. Hope I’m not interrupting something.” Bruce nearly rolls his eyes. _Thank fucking Christ_. Superman (who is covered in some sort of blackish-purple goo) slowly floats through the massive hole in the wall which he’s just created, and gently sets his red boots down on the floor with nary a sound. Both of Bruce’s kidnappers are frozen in place. One’s mouth has dropped open.

Clark quickly meets his gaze, and Bruce nods.

Just as Thug Two is raising his gun, aiming it at Bruce, Superman acts.

Suddenly, both men are tied up with the rope which originally held Bruce— a nice bit of irony that he’ll have to compliment Kal on later— and are now sitting in the corner. Superman offers him a hand, and gently pulls Bruce to his feet. “You alright, Mr. Wayne?”

“Peachy,” Bruce answers cheerfully. “I don’t know where that bastard, Batman, is but that doesn’t matter now that you’re here to take me home, Superman.” He winks.

Clark offers him a quick grin. “Glad to hear it, Mr. Wayne. Now, if you’ll excuse me— I’ll be back in a jiffy.” Superman slowly floats over to the pair of tied-up thugs, picks them up, and floats through the hole in the building. Despite himself, Bruce laughs. _I’ll admit, sometimes Clark’s showmanship can be pretty entertaining_.

A few minutes later, Clark returns, sans goo, and picks him up.

As soon as they’re in the air and away from the warehouse, Bruce asks, “What was it?”

Clark sighs. “Yeah. Sorry about the wait. It was some lost alien— we had a bit of a misunderstanding, and they _spit_ on me. Wouldn’t have kept you waiting otherwise.”

“I see,” Bruce replies, eyebrow raised. _I’ll have to ask about that later_.

They both fall silent.

A few minutes later, Clark huffs. His gaze wavers out to the blue sky around them, and he seems to be watching the passing clouds. Bruce frowns, and offers an inquisitive grunt. Superman looks down at him, and says, “You know, Bruce, I’d marry you too.”

Bruce blinks. _Oh_.

**Author's Note:**

> Think of this as pre-slash, set early in my wacky interconnected universe. 
> 
> Also, this has had zero editing. I saw this prompt going around on here, and decided to try my hand at it. Forgive me.


End file.
